


Supernova Son

by redandwhiteroses



Category: Captain America (Movies), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Bucky is a good person he just doesn't know how to express himself, Dungeons and Dragons AU, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Multi, Paladin Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Ranger Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, Well slow burn for some of the relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redandwhiteroses/pseuds/redandwhiteroses
Summary: You’re searching for the disgraced Paladin, Steve Rogers. He’s looking for a way to clear his name. Your patron, Loki, sees an opportunity to have fun. Bucky just wants peace. All four of your wants and needs end up aligning.Also known as the D & D AU no one asked for but everyone wanted.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Supernova Son

You can tell you’re getting close to some sort of civilization by the road. Throughout most of the forest, the road was really nothing more than a glorified footpath. It didn’t even look like carts could pass through safely in a couple spots. You had to dismount your horse on multiple parts of it and carefully guide the trusted animal. Now, the space between the trees has widened, and the road is less wild and rock-filled. It’s more well-worn dirt than flattened grass. 

You stop for a second. Your horse snorts softly as he stands in place. Just because you were getting close to a town didn’t mean it was the right one. You were fairly certain that your mysterious fallen paladin was nearby, but you had no idea if it was this town or the next one over or even the one across the river. Carefully, you lean over and grab something from your saddlebags. A wanted poster, put out by one Ser Stark. A handsome face looks up at you. 

Captain Steve Rogers was very handsome. He also looked like a stereotypical paladin. Well, what you thought a stereotypical paladin looked like. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a chiseled jaw that made your mind go places it shouldn’t. The gleam in his eye spoke of a devotion to justice. You run your fingers along the image on the scroll. He was never particularly open about which deity he served, but you suspected some sort of Sun God. He had that look; golden and bright. Not bright like a flash of lightning but bright as if you stared at him for too long, you would be blinded to the rest of the world.

His temperament also made you think of the Sun.

“We just have to hope that he hasn’t gone supernova yet.” You murmur to your horse, running your fingers through his thick mane. 

“They say he was just and true, the sort that a maid can only dream of.” The scroll pulses, a low light coming from it. You gently nudge your horse to continue forward. “Supposedly, he had a friend from childhood that had his undying affection. I heard many people wonder about the nature of their relationship.” The light slowly brightens. As it does, it looks as if it’s coming off of the page.

“Apparently, many women wished that he would pay them the same amount of attention. If he’s as good-looking as his picture, I might be with them.” You murmur that more yourself than to anyone. The light begins peeling itself off the page, causing you to laugh. Your patron gave you a spell of truth. It wasn’t a traditional one because it didn’t force the receiver to tell the truth. Rather, it was activated by speaking the truth. The stipulation that you had been given was you could not use it in a traditional way. 

That had been one of your first lessons with your current, perhaps true, patron; nothing is ever as it seems. It had taken you hours to figure out how that applied to this spell. It was still a lesson you were learning. You had gotten into more nasty situations than you cared to admit because you forgot the simple phrase. 

You were proud when you figured out a way to apply the lesson to this spell. After all, no one would think that a truth spell could be a tracking spell.

“He makes me think of the Sun. Bright yet dangerous if you get too close.” The paper rustles as the light strains against the physical bonds. “Ser Stark claims to hate him and that Steve helped a traitor. I suspect something more happened there.” You cover your eyes briefly as you can feel the light break through its bonds. Your horse whinnies, clearly startled. When you lower your hands, a small orb is floating in front of you. You rub small circles along your beast’s neck. 

“Let’s see... He gave up his life in the kingdom for an old friend. The friend from years ago. He must have been in love with his friend. Some sort of love caused that. A man just doesn’t give up riches and wealth and a way to help the people just for an old friend.” The orb grows in size and floats downward towards the road. You bite the inside of your cheek. This was hard; you only knew him from the legends, and legends were more embellishments than truth. 

“I-” You pause for a moment, carefully thinking over your words. The problem with this spell is that, if you weren’t careful with how you phrased things, you could accidentally make things true. That came with consequences every time. “I’m not sure, and I have no way of knowing, but I suspect he and his friend have an intertwined bond, one not from our plane of existence.”

The orb floats downward even further, but it doesn’t touch the road yet. You hiss softly. This was the part you hated the most. It tied into your second lesson: in order to get, you must give when it comes to magic. The problem was that you often had to give in the same magnitude that you wanted to be given. Sometimes you have to give more than what you recieve in the short-term. 

“I looked at his face, and I knew.” It feels like a confession. “Again, no way of proving, but... Somehow, some way, I know that I’m tied to him. Tied to both of them. I hope it’s just that they save my life or that I wander with them for a small time, but I- I suspect it’s a more carnal bond than that.”

The orb hits the road. Dirt changes before your eyes, and it looks as if your way is paved in pure gold. Your heart beats madly inside your chest. The brighter the spell got, the more truth had been fed into it. Your path shines in a way that makes even the brightest piece of gold look dull and brassy. You run a hand through your hair and let out a frustrated noise.

“Great.” You nudge your horse to move, making sure to keep your irritation out of the motion. “Just great.”

On the bright side, you know that this will take you directly to him. You won’t need to do the spell again for a while. You try to keep that thought in your head as you travel more miles. If you had to do it again, you’d have to feed it with more information. New information. Giving it old information was like putting a charred log onto a fire. This saves you a lot of energy and thinking. That was the way to think about it.  
You’re starting to hit farmland. Fields have been cropping up along the way, first on one side and then on both. You’re passing by an area of particularly thick grass when you see rustling. A black shape darts through it. Whatever it is seems to be headed towards the road, so you pull the reins. Your horse stops. After several seconds, a black fox makes its way onto the road. His fur is thick and silky. You can feel human hair of the same texture underneath your fingertips, hear the soft noises as you tug on dark locks. The fox sits in the middle of the road and looks at you. Green eyes regard you. Something intelligent, beyond a fox or a human, lies within those eyes. You’ve seen them enough to know who it is.

You dismount your horse. Keeping the reins in one hand, you approach the fox. Slowly, you kneel, looking at the ground as you do. You imagine you look like the picture of subservience. You don’t see the change, but you can feel it, feel the energy around you changing. You keep your eyes trained on the ground. Human hands soon tangle in your hair, lifting your head up to look at him.

The Trickster, your benefactor and patron, smiles down at you. It’s an amused smile, which is probably a good sign. One hand releases your hair while the other stays in place, fingers winding through your locks. His free hand goes down along the side of your face, and you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack. You lean into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. He chuckles softly above you. He purrs your name, making sure to say it in the way that makes your knees go weak.

“Well done. I hadn’t expected you to admit that the ties that bind you and the Captain might be more physical in nature.” Loki teases. “You even did it before he laid eyes on you. I’m impressed.”

“I- It was a hunch.” You offer. “I’m trying to work on seeing things earlier so I don’t get blindsided.”

He smiles at you, and it’s both proud and condescending. “You still have a long way to go on that front.” He lets you go, and you take that as your cue to stand up. He’s eying your horse. It’s hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking. “No matter what happens with him, you know who your loyalties belong to, right?”

Your burrow creases. “Of course.”

“And that would be?”

“To you first and myself second.” It always feels strange, putting that into words. Your patron nods.

“I want you to remember that.” His tone is serious. “He’ll try to make you forget. He can be a good man when he wants to be, but he’s learned the value of being selfish occasionally over the past several years.”

“He’d have to be seriously good at whatever it is to make me forget.” You mean what you said, but you keep your tone teasing. The Trickster grins at you. He steps towards you again, gently taking a hold of your chin. He uses his grip to make you look him in the eye. He seems content with whatever it is he sees.

“It’s been too long.” He breathes, his lips millimeters from yours. “I have missed you. I’ve meant to check in, but things have gotten... messy.”

“Having to clean up after an oaf?” A grin makes its way onto your face. Loki hums in agreement.

“Unfortunately.” He’s standing so close to you. It drives you insane when he does this, when he plays with you like this. It doesn’t help that it has been a while. He pushes some of your hair over your shoulder and plays with the ends. “Make sure to give yourself an extra day or two when you get into town. We have much time to make up.”

You take initiative and move forward, capturing his lips for a kiss. It’s a short kiss, but it’s not chaste. His green eyes are slightly lust-blown when you pull away from him. 

“Remind me to never go so long again.” His voice drops an octave. A gust of wind blows through one field into the next, crossing over the road as it goes. He disappears with it. You’re left alone in the middle of the road. A hand comes up to touch your lips, fingers pressing gently against the soft flesh. After a second, you shake your head at yourself and jump back on your horse.

“Still have a lot of miles to travel.” You rub a soft circle on your horse’s side before nudging him. The two of you start once more. 

As you go, you take the time to look at your surroundings. Fields of grass slowly turning into almost meadow-like land and then to farms. They look like they’re doing well, many of them filled with rows of crops. Eventually, you begin to see humans as well. At first, they’re deep out in the crops, but they slowly start coming towards the side of the road. The houses become closer to the road as well. You even see a couple of fences here and there.

By the time you make it to the town itself, the sky is dark. A guard is stationed at the gate. By his relaxed posture, they don’t get many night-time visitors. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you riding towards him. You bite down lightly on the side of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Halt!” He sounds young. You stop before you reach him. “What’s your business?”

“I’m just a traveler.” You keep your tone light. “I need a place to stay for the night.”

The kid hesitates, clearly unsure of what to do. 

“Seriously, I just need a place to stay for a little bit.” You let the tiredness you feel seep into your voice. Slowly, the kid nods and opens the gate.

“Follow this road to the town square and then take a right. There should be a tavern and an inn there.” The gate swings open with a loud creak.

“Thank you.” You smile softly at him as you pass him. Your horse’s hooves click on the cobblestone. The directions are easy enough to follow. Besides, the tracking spell from earlier leads you that way anyway. The tavern is easy enough to find, and you hitch your horse outside the inn next door. It doesn’t take long for you to get a room. The tavern is jumping but the inn is fairly silent. As you talk to the clerk, you see that only one key is missing. You don’t comment on it, seeing as you want to get food and go to bed as soon as humanly possible. 

Getting a room goes smoothly, and it doesn’t take you long to get your horse in the stable and things in your room. You’re tempted to go straight to bed, but your stomach rumbles. You huff. You move to look out the window in your room. A frown makes its way onto your face. The spell is still active.

The spell is still active, and the glowing path leads right into the tavern.

Well. Since you’re here, and you are hungry... 

You quickly wash up and change into better clothes. They’re nice, but not so nice that you’ll stick out like a sore thumb. As an afterthought ,you lay a dress out on the bed. A nice something to wear when Loki stops by later on in the night. You sweep down the stairs, out the door, and to the tavern.

The lights are low. Someone is smoking a pipe, casting a haze that hangs in the air. It makes the tavern seem even dimmer than it is. People look as you enter, but their attention drifts as easily as it came. That’s fine by you; you wanted to scope things out in peace. You make your way to an empty table, acting as if you’re looking for a table as you scan the room. No one seems to stand ou-

Ah.

There he is.

You look away and continue to act as if you’re searching for a table. You settle on one and sit down. It gives you a good view of Steve without making it seem like you’re watching him. A woman comes up to you, and you order something easy. Something that will be difficult to mess up. You glance over in Steve’s direction again.

He’s grown out his facial hair. A scraggly beard and disheveled hair cover up most of his features, but you can still tell it’s him by the gleam in his eyes. That, and a certain thrum lets you know. You hope it’s from the tracking spell. If it’s not, then whatever it is is a two-way street. You concentrate on your drink and food, once food is put in front of you. You don’t look at him, but several times, you can feel his gaze on you. 

You don’t know for certain that he knows who you are, but you hope he doesn’t. The thought he might know who you are makes you uncomfortable. You try not to wolf down your meal. You still eat it faster than you should. For a moment, you risk looking up. He’s looking at you, staring at you. He’s regarding you with an unreadable expression. You concentrate on your food again. As you eat, you think. If he’s noticed you, you might have trouble getting out of here. He certainly looks as if he’s going to stop you if you try to leave.

You look around the large dining room again. A candle catches your eye. There’s a table of men with long cloaks sitting close to it. The candle is far enough that nothing would catch fire, but it’s just close enough that if it tips over, it will light at least one robe on fire. You hum softly to yourself, scanning the room once more. A wind seems to be growing, if the noise from outside is anything to go by. You click your tongue.

“Seems like a storm is coming.” An old man at a table close to yours grouses. Your eyes light up. The shutters over some of the windows rattle. The bartender looks up in confusion. You take a deep drink and order a little bit more food. 

You’re careful as you manipulate the environment. It’s all subtle, coming from other’s comments and suggestions. It builds and builds, each piece slowly falling into place. All it takes is another person coming in, opening the door wide. A sudden and huge gust of wind comes swirling into the tavern. It slides an empty bowl over just so, and down goes the candle. It takes a minute for the flame to catch and another before the man wearing the cloak notices he’s on fire. When he does, all hell breaks loose.

People swarm the area in an attempt to help him. Several try to stomp on his cape to put it out. You move with the crowd like you too want to help. The man is shrieking and running in his panic, so it’s easy enough to slip through to the other side. You don’t need to look behind you to know that Steve is trying to push his way through the crowd. A side hall catches your attention, and you dart into it. As you do, you quietly summon an illusion. You make sure to duck down when the illusion appears, and you stay as low as you can until you make it into the hall. 

Your illusion makes it through the crowd to the door. Steve follows, a grim look of determination on his face. He goes out the door not long after her. You wait for several seconds before slipping out of your hiding space. The fire must have been put out. A group surrounds the man, checking on him. You slip out the back door and into the night. Just in case Steve is waiting for you, you go around several other buildings before looping back around to the inn. You go around the side of the inn’s stable to be safe.

Something doesn’t feel right, though. It seemed too easy.

“Fuck.” You can’t help swearing as you're practically thrown into the wooden stable wall. A hand, a metal one, darts out and wraps around your throat as a solid body presses against you. Your unknown assailant is wearing a hood, but you can see his eyes. They’re a steely blue that pins you in place.

“Who do you work for.” It’s not a question but a demand.

“Myself.” You spit out in reply. Your mind scrambles for something that might get you out of this, but it’s hard to think when the metal wrapped around your windpipe tightens.

“Bullshit.” The stranger spits. “You know him. You know Steve. How do you know him.”

“I don’t know him.” Nothing is ever as it seems. You’re not lying when you say that, but you’re also not telling the truth. You’ve merely adjusted the meaning to suit your needs. 

“Bucky.” A deep, almost sonorous, voice comes from your left. “Put her down.”

Oh.

That explained a lot. It certainly explained how he got the jump on you. Bucky was a legendary ranger. Well, a legendary ranger and rogue. The two elements fed off of each other and made him almost unstoppable. Bucky lets go of your throat, and you fall to ground unceremoniously. One hand goes to your throat. No bleeding, but you’ll sure as hell have bruises in the morning. Bucky looks at you dispassionately.

“She knows.” The ranger turns to his paladin friend. “We can’t let her live.”

“I know.” Steve’s gaze is even more intense. He’s looking at you, studying you. “But we’re not killing her.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wheeze. You lean against the wooden wall and use it to steady yourself as you stand. You didn’t want to use your powers yet because it will draw attention, but you might have to do so. Bucky clearly doesn’t believe you, given that his glare intensifies. Steve merely clicks his tongue at you.

“I recognized you when you walked in.” He steps towards you, and oh God, he could blind you in that moment. His steps are slow and even, but you can sense the power that he wields. Your pulse skyrockets. If this was different, and he was looking at you that way while walking towards you... But it’s not, and his motions and look indicate how much of a threat he is. “I saw you in Stark’s court.”

“A lot of people go to that court. Perhaps you saw my sister.” Your hands ball into fists, eyes darting around to catalogue the easiest or best way out of the situation. 

“No. It was you.” Steve seems so sure of himself. “You spent your time with the stranger.”

“That’s specific.” You can’t help the taunt. Bucky makes an almost agitated noise. Steve looks at him, hushing him. His look is commanding, but it softens some when he sees his old friend. 

“Relax.” The blond looks back at you.

“She’s going to get us killed. Get you killed.” Bucky’s watching you, waiting for you to make a move. It almost feels like he’s daring you to try something.

“The dark-haired stranger.” Steve picks up where he left off as if he’d never been interrupted. “He wasn’t human, I could tell. A Trickster. He was the one that nearly destroyed Stark’s court from the inside out.”

“Stark sent a fucking warlock after us?” Bucky’s voice rings of incredulity with a little bit of surprise. “How did she find us if her patron is a Trickster?” Steve is still studying you.

“Did Stark send you?” He finally asks.

“No.” You don’t push any magic into your words. “I came of my own accord.” 

“Why?” The two ask at the same time. The paladin’s tone is curious while the ranger’s voice is disbelieving.

“Curiosity.” You haven’t let your guard down. “I want to know what would cause you to leave.” 

Steve steps towards you again. “You felt the pull, didn’t you? In the tavern?

“I’ve felt a lot of things.” Bucky rolls his eyes at your response. Despite the situation, you can’t help smiling at his reaction. If you were in his shoes, your reaction would be the same. 

“I noticed you at Stark’s court. Not just because you were one of the few women he would confide in. You carried yourself differently.” He’s close to you, closer than you want him to be. He pauses for a second before turning to Bucky. “She’s the one I told you about.”

A range of expressions flit across the other man’s face. “Steve...”

“I’m not going to do anything.” Steve huffs before turning back to you. “Come with us. We could use your help.”

Your eyebrows arch. That wasn’t what you expected him to say. 

“Why do you need my help?” Your voice is surprisingly steady.

‘Steve wants to get that bounty off of his head.” You’re surprised when Bucky answers. He sounds bitter and unhappy. Thankfully, it’s not directed at you/

“I have to get it off of my head. For your sake.”

You snort. “That’s only going if you die. Tony is pissed and wants you dead.” 

Steve turns to you and smiles. “That’s what you’re going to help with.” 

“Bullshit.” You and Bucky reply in unison. Steve huffs.

“Go to bed.” He tells you, his voice soft and gentle. “I’ll talk to Bucky. We’re not riding out for a couple of days, so you have time to think.”

You’ll take the dismissal. You can feel the ranger watching you as you leave and head to the inn. Your head is swirling with all kinds of thoughts as you make your way up the stairs. This was not the way you planned on things going. Thank the higher powers that Loki was going to see you tonight. 

You light several candles in your room, lighting it in a warm orange color, before you shut the door to your room. It had gotten so dark you wouldn’t be able to see the candles if you had closed it when you initially came into the room. A flickering shadow is cast on the back of the door. Your eyes narrow, and your hand instinctively goes to your waist where you keep your dagger sheathed. It better not be Bucky; you wouldn’t put it past him to try and scare you off. A chuckle sounds behind you, and your posture relaxes instantly.

“On edge, kitten?” Loki purrs. You turn around to face him.

“Yeah. It’s been a bit stressful.” You pad past him to close the curtains. The Trickster is lounging on your bed. He watches you the way someone might watch their favorite pet. You let out a sigh once the curtains are closed. Next, you pad over to the attached bathroom, lighting the candle in there. No one hiding in that space. You splash some water over your face before you start stripping, throwing your shirt somewhere to the side. You can feel Loki stand behind you, but you check the mirror to confirm it. He presses against you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hands wrap around your waist. Something about not only feeling him but seeing him in the mirror stirs something inside of you. He nips the shell of your ear.

“What did you think of the pretend hero?” His question is surprisingly casual, as if he’s asking about the weather. The tone is at odds with the way he sweeps his thumb across your abdomen. He places feather-light kisses behind your ear.

“I’m not sure.” You murmur, tilting your head and baring your neck to him. He takes the invitation, his kisses becoming teeth lightly scraping against the delicate skin. You have no doubt you’ll be covered in bruises once he’s through with you. “He’s got some darkness in him, that’s for sure.”

“Man is rarely as pure and good as he makes himself out to be.” The Trickster sucks on that spot on your neck that makes you tremble in his hold. He laves the freshly formed mark with his tongue. “What about the ranger?”

“I don’t trust him. I suspect the feeling is mutual.” Loki’s hands move higher upward until they reach the hem of your bra. You suck in a shaky breath when you feel his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts. You reach back to palm him through his trousers. “I’m not in the mood right now to talk about them.”

“Oh?” With a small shove, you’re bent over the vanity. He must have lengthened the mirror some because you can still see your reflection. He pulls your hips back towards him. The grin on his lips is the definition of sin. “And what are you in the mood for?”

Loki must have missed you because he takes his time with you, coaxing multiple orgasms from you. You’re happy the inn is mostly devoid of people because he does everything in his power to make you as loud as possible. By the time he’s done with you, both your body and voice are sore. Though the sky is still dark once he finishes, you can hear birds singing. He pulls you close to him, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

The light drifting into your room is what wakes you up. That, and your internal clock. It’s still fairly early in the morning. Loki is gone, but you know him. He’ll be back soon enough. You throw on a robe and open your door. Unfortunately, you can’t read the clock from where you are in the hall. With a huff, you walk out and check the time. 8 am. Not as bad as it could have been. Silently, you pad back into your room and close the door behind you.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” You jump despite yourself. Bucky snickers softly from his place on the corner of your bed. The window sash is open, which lets you know how he got in. You try to give him your best haughty look.

“Does it matter?” The man moves, going over to the dresser. He moves to run his hands over the wood but stops. He makes a face at something there before going to the window.

“Considering you kept me and Stevie up the whole night, yeah.” He clearly wants to pull a power move and inspect your room. He doesn’t. Whatever stain he saw on the dresser made him reconsider. “By the way, you two are nasty. I don’t even want to know what happened.”

“When a man and a woman love each other very much...” If looks could kill, you would have died from multiple stab wounds.

“Har har har.” The ranger turns all the way to face you. “So what was your angle with that?”

“Angle?” You wrinkle your nose as your brow creases. “What angle?”

Bucky scans your face, looking for something. He lets out a small noise.

“You really don’t know?” He seems genuinely curious and perplexed.

“Know what?”

“Steve has a thing for you. He’s had a massive thing for you since he saw you at Stark’s.” He rolls his eyes. You let out a small laugh. You’ve made a similar exasperated expression many times. 

“I didn’t have any idea until last night, and even then I wasn’t sure. Thought it might be my imagination.” You go over to the vanity and look in the mirror. You make a face. It looks as if you were mauled by a bear from all the marks on your neck. 

Bucky’s eyebrows go into his hairline. “Then that Trickster of yours must be doing something right. Just from the way he talks about you, I know that Steve was head-over-heels the moment he saw you. Hell, last night? He was looking at you in a way that I’ve never seen him look at anyone before. Like you hung the sun and the stars.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You turn to face the intruder. “Last night you were suspicious of me, and now you’re acting like we’re friends.”

“If you help, Steve can finally be free.” Bucky shrugs. “Stark will stop at nothing to see Steve dead. You’re an alternative to that.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” You resist the urge to stick out your tongue.

“Look. I don’t do nice or beat around the bush. You asked a question, I answered.” He pauses for a moment, as if struggling with something. “I told you about Steve’s feelings because I don’t want you to use them against him.”

“Knowing makes it more likely, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but you can’t claim ignorance. Which means I get to hurt you if you hurt him.” The ranger’s smile is mostly teeth.

“I haven’t even made up my mind yet.” You point out.

“Steve won’t give up until you do.” He huffs. You think you hear him murmur something like ‘determined fucker’ under his breath. “He can wear you down.”

“I’m sure he can. People like him have a way to do that.” You slide one of your drawers open. You should think about getting dressed just in case Loki wasn’t lurking, waiting for Bucky to leave. Your companion seems to be thinking over what he wants to say next.

“Spend as much time before we leave as you can with your man, God, whatever.” He finally says. 

“Why?” You move some of your clothes over to get a better look at a piece that caught your eye.

“It’ll make things easier if he doesn’t show up while you’re with us.” Bucky heads towards your door. “He’s going to be awful the first few days already. He gets jealous real easy. Trust me.”

“So it’s for both our benefits?” You look over your shoulder at him. The ranger nods. 

“Yup. You’ll see what I mean.” With that, he opens the door and walks into the hall. You can hear him whistle as he leaves, and you notice he left the door open.

“Asshole.”


End file.
